Decisions, Decisions
by Squirrela
Summary: A series of vignettes where Charlie learns to take a step out from the shadow cast by his family, and make his own decisions.
1. Chapter 1

Should I bother him?

Charlie hovered at the foot of the stairs. 'Should I?' he wondered. Willy had told Charlie that he should feel free to come to Willy at any time, but should he? Were Charlie's concerns really that important to the great chocolatier? Maybe Willy was just saying that. That didn't feel like Willy, but how did Charlie know for sure?

Charlie didn't want to bother the man. He was doing so much for Charlie's family already. Charlie's Mom had been fierce in her declaration that Charlie wasn't to pester the man. It was up to Willy to fetch Charlie, if Willy wanted to spend time with the boy. If Willy didn't turn up, Charlie was to take it as a sign that the older man was simply too busy to spend time with him. But Charlie longed to spend time with the man.

Sometimes a boy needed an older guy to talk to. That meant Mom was out. His Grandfathers? Charlie wrinkled his nose in disgust. He loved his grandparents, but they were all out of touch. Most of them hadn't made it out of bed since before Charlie was born. How could they offer reasoned advice about a world they simply couldn't understand anymore?

And Grandpa Joe... Charlie simply didn't trust him. Grandpa Joe didn't see anything wrong with stealing. Apparently, since they were so poor they were practically starving, they were entitled to take things they couldn't afford. Never mind the other poor people that might only just be scraping by. If you could take something from them, good on you. Charlie didn't want to take advice from someone whose moral compass (Charlie had come across the expression in school, and had liked it) said that was okay.

They had lived at the Factory for around three months now. Charlie didn't feel he knew anyone else well enough to talk things through with them. James still seemed scary: his Slugworth act simply too believable. The man had enjoyed the act, and that creeped Charlie out. The Oompa-Loompas seemed nice enough, but they were even less in touch with the outside world than Charlie's grandparents. And the people he knew from school... getting advice from them didn't bear thinking about.

That left Willy, and for all that Charlie wanted advice, he just wasn't sure that it was worth bothering Mr Wonka about this. It didn't matter that his school subjects had an impact on how he would cope working in the Factory in future, it didn't matter if his grades, and the way Mr Turkentine treated half the class as if they were worse than manure on his shoe, would impact on Charlie's future. Nor did the way everyone seemed to be trying to suggest that they were his best friend. Their expressions all seemed so fake.

Mom was right. Mr Wonka had too many other things on his mind to bother about the things that worried Charlie.

With a sigh, and scuffing feet, Charlie turned around, and began to shuffle away from the forbidden, and oh so tantalising staircase. He had barely gone three steps, when a well-known voice arrested his reluctant momentum.

"Charlie?" The question hung unanswered in the air. Charlie turned around, a sense of hesitancy cloaking his movements. How he longed to run to Willy, and pour his frustrations, and concerns, out to the man. But to do that was wrong. Now what should he do?

Willy walked down to the bottom of the stairs, and sat on one of the bottom steps. Patting the space beside him, Willy waited for Charlie to make his way over. The slow footsteps gave away the boy's reluctance.

When Charlie got close enough, Willy leaned forward, and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "What's wrong Charlie?" Willy asked.

Charlie sighed, and looked down at the ground. A second passed, two, three. Then Charlie looked up again.

"I wanted to talk to you about school Mr Wonka. There are some things Mom, and my grandparents just cannot understand, but you might. But Mom has said I am not to bother you. I don't want to be a nuisance."

There was an air of desperation to the words. Willy looked at Charlie, his head was down, his chin practically resting on his chest, shoulders slumped.

Seeing the air of defeat and dejection surrounding the boy, Willy's eyes practically flashed. What right did that family have to tell his apprentice that bringing his, Charlie's, concerns to him, Willy, was to waste Willy's time? Did they not understand that unless a Factory emergency was taking place, there was nothing Willy placed higher priority on, than the things that concerned Charlie? As time went on, Charlie would become responsible for looking after people, and things, that Willy cared deeply about. It was only natural that Willy would want to play a part in Charlie's moral development. And those cretins wanted to deny Willy the opportunity?

"And what do you want, Charlie?"

Charlie sighed again. "I don't want to be a bother," the boy stated again, eyes focused on his shoes.

"And what if I were to say that you wouldn't be a bother?" Willy continued on, suppressed laughter being hinted at in his tones, as Charlie's head jerked up at that information, for all Willy attempted to suppress it.

Charlie glanced at the man suspiciously. There was nothing funny about Chalie wasting peoples time.

On seeing it, Willy sobered up immediately. "My apologies, Charlie. I find the mere idea that any time spent with you might be a waste so laughably incorrect, that I couldn't help but find the suggestion humorous." Charlie relaxed again.

"Oh!"

As the silence lengthened, Willy patted the space beside him again.

"Now, why don't you try me?" he suggested.

With another deep breath, Charlie found himself moving to sit next to the man. Maybe it would be okay to talk to him.

* * *

My thanks to everyone who followed, favourited, or commented on my last short story. As with any of my stories, anything you recognise from elsewhere probably doesn't belong to me. As far as this set of short stories goes, I currently have two chapters, each which can act as a stand-alone. They are based on the characters we got to know in my epic length A Chocolate Factory?, although they might not have happened in that particular world.


	2. Chapter 2

Should I prank him?

Charlie hovered at the foot of the stairs. Should I? He wondered. Grandpa Joe was in the mood for mischief it seemed, and he had suggested playing a practical joke on James. The materials would all be provided. All Charlie had to do was get into the correct room, and set the prank up. It would be easy, and a lot of fun, Grandpa Joe had stated, with every ounce of persuasion he could manage in his voice. At the time, Charlie had laughed at the wheedling tone, and told his grandfather that he would think about it.

Now Charlie was exploring all that would be involved, and he was thinking hard. Putting green hair-dye in James' shampoo didn't seem like such a bad thing to do, but who knew what trouble that might cause? Grandpa Joe's ideas weren't always trustworthy. That's what almost lost Charlie the Factory prize in the first place — following Grandpa Joe's great ideas; so Grandpa Joe's ideas of fun weren't always a good thing.

Would it be wise to follow his suggestion this time? It wasn't an 'Illegal'. Those were ideas that would get the family thrown out of the Factory quicker than you could say, 'Wonka'. They involved any joke that might hint at letting anyone outside of the Factory have access to recipes, or to any candy that hadn't been released yet. Willy had explained to Charlie just how much something like that could hurt the Factory.

Charlie had the notion that someone trusted doing something untrustworthy like that would send Willy into insanity. That was why Charlie was the only person in his family who had access to the Inventing Room, and the rooms associated with that process. The problem was, an idea not being an 'Illegal' didn't mean it was a good idea, either. To do this would be to break Willy's trust. It would break Mr. Wilkinson's trust as well, and despite his being a really creepy guy, Charlie didn't want to do that.

The door at the top of the stairs led to James' private sanctum, or so Willy called it. Charlie was one of only five people who knew how to find this part of the Factory. It was the place James came when he didn't want to be around other people: James had other quarters in the more general residential wing, but here was where James knew he had absolute privacy. In point of fact, Charlie would be surprised if his family even knew this area existed. To breach the sanctity of this room would pulverise any trust James, and maybe Willy, had in Charlie.

Sighing, Charlie turned round. He would go and talk to Willy about what Grandpa Joe was up to; what he wanted Charlie to do. That was a better idea.

* * *

Three weeks later, Charlie was rubbing his hands with glee. Willy's suggestion about how to deal with Grandpa Joe's love of pranks had been fantastic, and who knew that James could be such a good sport? The man was stood wearing an Oompa-Loompa wig, as green as green could be! Charlie and Willy also wore the unusual head-gear, but they were hidden around the corner.

A few minutes after everyone was in position, Grandpa Joe wandered into the room to start his shift.

"Great Jehoshaphat! I didn't expect the stuff to do all that to your hair!"

James looked up.

"Didn't you get the memo, Joe Bucket? It's 'Dress Like an Oompa-Loompa Day'. Those of us at my level—Charlie, Willy, and myself—honour this tradition by wearing Oompa-Loompa sanctioned wigs. Staff on your level are supposed to be wearing a similar kind of wig, and to have reported to the Oompa-Loompa camp to experience their traditional redwood bark and paprika face mask, before reporting for work."

As James was finishing, Willy and Charlie emerged to stand beside him.

"I expect you to report to the camp immediately! You're already late!"

Seeing all three in green-as-green wigs, bobbed and swirled, Charlie's Grandpa Joe blanched, and then took to his heels, to honour the request.

Charlie bit his lip and wondered. Boy, was Grandpa Joe's face going to be orange after that facial! Was this an abuse of authority, hoisting a trickster by his own petard, or simple justice? Charlie wasn't sure; but he was sure, he didn't want to have to indulge in a repeat performance.

* * *

 _My thanks to_ Turrislucidus _and_ IcedTeaCinnaBons _for their reviews. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter showcasing Charlie's decision making development. Disclaimer: Please refer to the disclaimer in Chapter One._


	3. Chapter 3

Should I Try This?

Charlie hovered at the foot of the stairs. Should I? he wondered. If he went up them, he was signing-on for something that could be one of the biggest advancements in his career. Or it could be a flop which would make him a complete laughing stock. He could just turn around and walk away. No one would know. No one ... except for him.

A few months before, Willy had told Charlie that he was now at the stage where he was ready to take an idea, and walk through the entire process with it. Prior to this, Charlie had spent time in each of the departments, working through the processes involved in putting a new idea through its paces. He had seen so many failures. The worst, in Charlie's opinion, were those which didn't make it out of the Idea Department. It didn't happen often, but it happened often enough. He didn't want it to happen today.

Almost no idea entered the process and reached the end unchanged. That was okay. People with Willy's level of experience might submit an idea, and as they went through to the production stage, it would have only the odd detail changed. Those with less experience could submit an idea, and by the time it was in production, the idea would be unrecognizable, though most of those people hadn't had the rigorous training that Charlie had. Many of them were still in school, and were learning about the factors that made an idea either a viable candy, or not.

Charlie had already worked on turning candy dreams into reality. He knew what it was like to work with someone else's ideas, and turn them into something that would be sent out to the shops to sell. He understood how the idea moved from the 'paper' phase into the 'creative' phase — what would the finished candy look like? What colours and flavours would be involved? How could you make the candy fun? He knew the various pitfalls in the 'inventing' phases; he knew how the testing phases led into round upon round of changing ratios to remove the worst of the side effects. He knew the heartbreak involved in having an idea get through to the very last test phase before being declared 'unworkable'. Dreams could be shelved for years at a time, until new inspiration hit, but if an idea was declared 'unworkable' it was instant candy death.

Charlie had started off observing the processes involved by watching Mr. Wonka, and the Oompa-Loompas, as they guided each candy through. Then, very slowly, he was asked to start contributing his ideas into the discussions. Eventually, he had become a valuable part of the team, and had been consulted on every phase in candy development — even being given basic instruction on how the weird and wonderful machines were made. Charlie would never be a mechanic, but he now had a basic knowledge of the things needed to make different kinds of candy. He had yet to spend time in the mechanical pioneering department, though. Those concepts were just a little beyond Charlie's level of understanding.

Yes, with Willy hovering in the background, in case of need, Charlie had walked through the steps of shepherding a candy dream, start to finish. It had been a real thrill reaching the end of the process with the first successful idea he had worked with. Willy had final say—that was something that went without saying—but every idea had someone who walked it through the process. Charlie had managed around fifteen 'dreams' now, but they weren't his 'dreams'. Of those, three had reached the stage where they were almost ready to hit the shops. Another five were in the early stages of testing. The remainder had all hit upon snags, and were shelved. All except for one, the last one Charlie had taken on. It had reached the penultimate department, and had there been declared 'unworkable.'

That had been a shock. Charlie's confidence had been knocked. What had he done wrong? It had taken Willy a good while of talking things through with Charlie to get the boy to realise that it didn't have to be candy mismanagement. Some ideas just simply weren't for public use. The Wonkavision idea was one of those. That had been wonderful, until the greed of humanity got involved.

Now Charlie was on the cusp of doing something new. Now, the challenge was to come up with an idea of his own, and bring that to fruition. One couldn't be a true apprentice to Willy Wonka if one didn't come up with one's own ideas for candy. Charlie knew that if he didn't submit this idea, it would become increasingly difficult for him to take the step. Did he want to be sat at that table while his poor idea was discussed though? Did he want to hear that group of people, debating the merits of something he had come up with? Maybe he could get away without contributing.

With sinking heart, Charlie turned that idea over in his mind. The simple truth was that he wouldn't be able to face Willy again, knowing in his heart that he had let the man down. Charlie put his foot on the first step. That was all it took. Even if his heart had now jumped into his mouth, all he had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Charlie entered the room, sweat curling the Idea Card clutched tightly in his hand. He glanced at the wording again: _'Frost Bite_ , a candy that makes your tongue cold, and sparkle as if there were real frost on it. CB.' It might not be the best idea in the world, but it could be fun, and that was all Willy asked anyone to do: come up with ideas that might be fun. Charlie took his seat, and slipped the card to the middle of the table, with the others. Hopefully, it wouldn't be thrown out amid gales of laughter.

* * *

As Charlie left the room, he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. He glanced up.

"Well done Charlie," Willy stated, approval shining down on his apprentice. "I know you have been worrying about submitting your first idea. No matter what happens to the idea you have submitted, I am proud of you for taking the initiative and doing so." Willy shared a knowing grin. "Submitting your ideas should get easier from now on."

Charlie sighed in relief. If Willy believed in him, that was all that mattered.

* * *

AN: My thanks to Turrislucidus for the thoughtful comment on the last chapter. And to everyone who has taken the time to read.

Thanks also to Ingrid, as 'guest,' for the thoughts on my latest one shot. I am pleased to know that you enjoy my version of Willy Wonka. Unfortunately, although I do sometimes enjoy reading romance work, I simply do not see Willy Wonka as a good person to write about as someone's love interest. For me, Willy is a far more interesting character 'as is.'

Please refer to the disclaimer in chapter one.


	4. Chapter 4

Should I report it?

Charlie hovered at the foot of the stairs. Should I? he wondered. He had been walking along the corridor, and spotted something unusual. When he approached to find out more, he had discovered some material was caught around what seemed to be a new surveillance camera. The material was one he recognised as belonging to his Grandpa Joe's favourite shirt — a shirt which had just had to be discarded, due to a torn sleeve.

As if this weren't concerning enough, Charlie was now involved enough in the running of the Factory that he should be aware of any new surveillance equipment that were placed in the building. Willy had Charlie deal with all the paperwork now, and James wouldn't order new equipment like that to be produced without the paperwork. So where had it come from? And what was it connected to? Charlie was most uncomfortable with this.

On the surface, it could be taken as a joke. However, with Willy's background, if it were a joke, it was one which touched upon a touchy subject. If it wasn't a joke, it instantly became something more sinister. Charlie didn't want to believe that his grandfather could have got embroiled in something that would get the man—get the family, really—thrown out of the Factory. But what other possibilities were there? Either Charlie's grandfather's childish wish to play pranks on people—in ways that were highly inappropriate—had led to this camera appearing, or someone outside the Factory had approached Grandpa Joe for nefarious purposes, and _that_ had resulted in the appearance of the camera. Both solutions were bad news.

The question was, what should Charlie do? He could go up those stairs, and start investigating by himself; he could report to the Oompa-Loompas responsible, and oversee an investigation; he could take the problem to Willy; or he could take the problem to James.

Charlie sighed. Even if the situation didn't involve his Grandfather, it wasn't normal for Charlie to be involved in investigating such an event. Charlie simply didn't have the skills required for this. Even Willy wouldn't normally investigate this kind of thing, preferring to leave that to specially trained Oompa-Loompas: then he'd take action. The problem was, Grandpa Joe's behaviour reflected on Charlie, and that meant Charlie wanted to find out the mitigating circumstances.

Back to the question: who to report the situation to? Given the circumstances, if Charlie reported this to Willy, Charlie's entire family could end up put out of the Factory. Willy was known for his big, sweeping gestures. Someone steals your recipes, what do you do? You close the Factory down. Why not find a way to keep your recipes private, so they cannot be stolen? You want to take someone on as an apprentice, but their family is struggling to survive, what do you do? You move the entire family to a suite within the Factory, to live there in luxury. It was possible to have found other ways to look after the family, without doing so, had Willy wanted to. One of those family members plants unauthorised CCTV cameras around the Factory, what do you do? You throw the entire family out of the Factory, never to darken your door again. It was all of a piece.

Charlie turned his footsteps towards where James could be found. The guy still struck Charlie as creepy. He had a habit of moving around the Factory in near silence, and popping up where least expected. Charlie had lost count of the number of times he had jumped out of his skin due to James' sudden appearing act. James was pretty level-headed though, and when it came to Factory Security, he was part of the chain-of-command. So if Charlie reported to James, he could probably 'get the ball rolling' when it came to taking appropriate action. If Charlie took this straight to the Oompa-Loompas, they would more likely ask Charlie what authority he was using to ask the questions. The Oompa-Loompas were very disapproving if they ever thought Charlie was doing something that Willy hadn't given him the authority to do.

Hopefully, reporting to James would mean that if Grandpa Joe _were_ guilty of doing something that could lead to a competitor gaining copies of Willy's recipes, the action taken would not involve complete eviction. Or if it did, the eviction would be managed in such a way that the family didn't end up destitute. Whether Charlie would still have a job at the end of it all, that might hang in the balance, but Charlie shouldn't end up being black-balled due to the actions of his family.

When Charlie found him, James was in the middle of a busy room. After catching the older man's eye, Charlie waited for James to signal that he was free to talk with Charlie, and then the younger man respectfully asked whether James was able to spare five minutes for a quick catch-up, or whether it would be better if Charlie made an appointment. As it happened, James was free, and they headed out for the needed conversation.

* * *

A fortnight later, Willy caught up with Charlie as he was wandering home, after completing his shift in the packaging department.

"Can I have a quick word with you, Charlie? Willy teased, "or would it be better for me to make an appointment?"

Charlie smiled at the lunacy of that thought. Willy, need to make an appointment to see Charlie? Pigs would fly first! If Willy wanted to see Charlie, then Charlie, as the apprentice, would make time then and there. It was only when Charlie wanted to see Willy for some reason that an appointment was required. Charlie joined the older man, and they slipped into an empty room.

"It's about your annual appraisal," Willy confided. "We can cover the details at our next catch-up, but I just wanted to let you know that you have nothing to worry about. You passed with flying colours."

"I did?" said Charlie, with wrinkled brow. "But I haven't received my appraisal yet. I was getting concerned about that, actually."

Willy smiled at the picture of confusion in front of him.

"Well, naturally, I would have preferred it if you had felt comfortable bringing your concerns to me, but taking them to James is a perfectly valid solution to such a problem, and as such, it isn't a cause for concern."

With that cryptic response, Willy left the room, leaving Charlie gaping after him. Did that... ? Was Willy suggesting... ? What just happened?

Shrugging his shoulders, Charlie followed Willy from the room. Willy would obviously be saying no more for now. Charlie would have to wait for the meeting when it happened. Maybe by then, Charlie would have managed to wrap his mind around what Willy was implying.

* * *

AN: My thanks to Turrislucidus for the review. I should say, you make some excellent points. As far as the recurring theme goes, It intrigues me how things can start in similar ways, but take very different directions from that starting point, depending on how the author deals with the situation. Thanks also to everyone who has read the different chapters in this fic. I hope you enjoy.

Please refer to the disclaimer on chapter one.


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